Distant Reality
by Einin
Summary: Dramione Fanfiction Draco Malfoy, after his unsuccessful attempt to kill Dumbledore, deserts the Death Eaters and travels alone. Three years has passed and nothing has been heard from Harry Potter or Ron Weasley. (Please check my profile for constant updates!)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Lost Cause

Part 1: Potions Runner

"Maverlia" She whispers, her voice croaky from lack of water.

The man nods and lets her through, his head bowed and his back hunched. She hated being here. She hated everything about these places and the people she was forced to associate with. But, she had to. She had to keep up appearances. She stomped through the cavern, her heavy boots thudding. It was a habit now. She let her slender body fall into the wood chair and lifted her muddy boots onto the worn table.

"Well…" Her now gruff voice drawled.

"Ah! Maverlia. So pleasant to see you! What have you got for me today?" The short thick man rubbed his hands together as if waiting for a parcel for Christmas.

"The same as usual," her thin pale hand searched through her many pocket on the leather belt she wore until she found what she wanted. The man's hand eagerly made its way towards the three small glass bottles each had silver and green fog swirling eerily around in them. She moved her hand back, just quickly enough as to keep from the man.

"No Cormic. You nearly fucked me over last time. I want the money out now." She tapped her fingers impatiently against the bottles as he searched through his cloak for an envelope. When he had finally found it and handed it to her she set the bottles in the man's waiting hands and inspected the envelope.

"Are we done here?" She asked as she tucked the envelope into her own cloak pocket.

"Oh, well Maverlia, it has been quite a while, won't you stay for a drink?"

"No, I've had enough of this place already." With that she got to her feet and began walking towards the door.

"Maverlia, dear, I forgot to tell you. I've heard there has been a muggle-born uprising. Down south a bit, be careful. I don't want my best potion runner to be killed by a bunch of mudbloods."

"I here ya." She replied slamming her body through the door and into the cool night chill. Those words didn't bother her anymore. She laughed quietly to herself. If only Charles Cormic knew that his favourite potions runner was actually a mudblood. Would he shit a brick.

"And now," Hermione thought to herself, "for the real mission, where did Rumis say that safe-house would be?"

Part 2: Wanderer

Draco hated it. He hated everything about it. He watched the small doe shiver against the snowy patch of grown that he held it down in. His other hand was extended ready to use his wand. The doe's eyes grew bigger as it watched Draco's mouth grimace. To be honest, he should have been used to it by now. What had it been, three years since he left? But he couldn't do it. He let his hand fall to the side and let go of the deer, watching it slowly rise and finally prance away.

There, another day that he would go hungry. He shrugged to himself and pushed is white-blonde hair out of his eyes. Draco rummaged through his pack until he found that morning's half-eaten sandwich. This would have to do.

Quickly throwing his pack back onto his back and tucking his wand into his pocket, he munched on his cold sandwich as he walked. Night would be drawing in soon. Better to choose a site to camp before it was dark, rather than waking up in an only half concealed spot in the morning. Don't want the "Hunters" to find you. Especially him, a Death Eater deserter. Boy, would they have a field day with him. Within 30 minutes the dark had engulfed the forest, and Draco had found a spot to sleep. Pulling his coat around him, and tucking his chin down by his neck, he closed his eyes for rest.

But, it wasn't five minutes later that he heard them. Hunters. Draco pulled in his knees and kept as quiet as he could while watching them walk only a few meters by. There were three of them. The tallest, obviously the leader of the group, was pulling a smaller figure behind him.

"Shouldn't we take her to the Death-eaters, Travers?" One of the figures drawled.

"No," the leader spat back, "She is mudblood, and I can smell it. They will only kill her, let's have some fun first."

The smallest figure hissed, as the one called Travers pulled her farther until she was resting between a tree and him.

Her voice croaked "I am not a fucking mudblood! My name is Maverlia, I am a potions runner!"

"You really expect us to believe that? We saw you leave the muggle town. Why would a potions runner want to go anywhere near a muggle town?" He taunted her, pulling her black cloak a bit off her shoulder.

Draco could hear the sneer in her voice, "Call Cormic, you know, Charles Cormic? I just met him to drop off a set of potions…"

Travers, slapped her across the face, leaving her fuming. "Don't talk to me like that mudblood, I know what you are." And then began to pull at her clothing once again.

Malfoy groaned to himself, why did this always happen to him? Here he was minding his own business, when bam he either has to save a stupid mudblood or listen to a group of Hunters ravish her.

With a clear voice. "Stupefy" The leader stopped then fell, dragging the witch down with him. For a moment there was silence, then the other two hunters began shooting hex's at Draco. He ducked grabbed onto the broken figure of the girl and disapparted.

It was quiet. Draco listened unsure whether or not they had arrived at a safe place. The breathing of the mudblood girl was heavy and exaggerated.

Finally she quieted down, and seemed to regain her bearings.

Her voice whispered a gruff "thank you" and a shift of her weight told him that she was beginning to stand up.

"Don't thank me you filthy mudblood!" His voice daggers "I only did them off because I didn't want to have to hear blood traitors fucking a nasty mudblood."

There was a hesitation. "Draco?" her voice catched a hitch as if she spoke before she could stop herself.

Draco's breathing stopped for only a second, he then lifted his wand "Lumos." The face he sees, he does not instantly recognize. She looked so different. No more of that bushy hair, or soft rose coloured features. No, the person sitting in front of him wasn't anything close to what he remembered.

She looked anything but soft now. Her hair was changed, long, straight, and dark. Her eyes hollow, and dark against her pale skin. She wore bruises all along her face, probably from the three Hunters, but perhaps not. She looked thin, but strong, even powerful . She looked hard. He could see that she was also looking him over. He knew how much he had changed. Her eyes lingered on his muggle backpack and clothes.

"Granger."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Desertion

Part 1: Hogsmeade

Hermione felt her anger and her fists curl. Before she could stop herself she had punched him in the nose and was watching the blood drip out. For only a second she remembered the moment she had punched him in third year. For only a second she wished she was back in that time, that innocent time.

Draco moaned loudly and covered his nose with his hand "Granger, you stupid fuc…"

Hermione interrupted "Shhh… where are we?" A quiet hush drifted over them as they both looked around. It wasn't until Hermione looked at the snow covered buildings did she realize where they were. She felt dread knot her stomach.

"Hogsmeade!? Are you a fucking moron?" Hermione balled her fist, resisting the urge to hit him again.

She watched as he pushed his ice coloured hair out of his eyes, "It is the only place I could think of, you should be fucking happy that you are anywhere other than with those Hunters." His voice sneered.

"Malfoy," She hissed back, "Are you daft? Voldemort is using Hogwarts as a base, this place will be crawling with Death Eaters."

Once again a quiet settled over them as they both contemplated ways to escape unnoticed. Hermione leaned back against the cold brick wall, her head pounding. How would she get out? She was known as a potions runner, but Hogsmeade was too close for comfort. They would want identification, and an explanation why she was here. Hermione had neither. From her enclosed thoughts she heard the deep gruff voice of Draco "Apparate" and then a slight fizzle.

"It won't work" She had snapped out of her own mind, "there is an anti-disapparition jinx here."

Draco glared at Hermione, his pale grey eyes daggers. "Screw this." He whispered, and then bolted up. Taking a quick glance around, he slowly began to make his way into the icy street.

"Don't…" Hermione began, but it was too late.

"Stop, Identification." A clear cruel voice rang from behind Draco and out of Hermione's view. She watched as Malfoy stopped, and then spun around lifting his wand to… Hermione never found out what he was planning to do.

"Expelliarmus." A voice shouted, causing Draco's wand to fly out of his hand and into the snow.

"Crabbe, isn't that the Malfoy kid?" The same voice sneered.

"I believe it is, Dolohov." Replied a deeper voice.

As the footsteps got closer, Hermione held her breath and flattened herself against the brick wall. She patted her pockets, looking for her wand. Shit, she thought as she remembered that the Hunters had taken it from her. Looking around she spied Draco's wand, only a few inches from where she sat.

"Well, let us take him to the Dark Lord. He will enjoy this bit of entertainment." A new voice spoke. The crisp educated voice contrasted harshly with the first two, and Hermione recognized it instantly. Cormic.

She listened to the steps that slowly got closer to where she sat, and then watched as they finally got into her vision. The larger one grabbed at Draco's arm.

"Don't touch me, scum." He yelled as he pushed the Death Eater away.

"Boy, it would do you good to just come easily" spoke Cormic evenly, his wand extended, as he walked slowly towards Malfoy.

_Fuck him, _Hermione thought to herself. She knew that if she did anything her cover would be blown. She would have to go back into hiding and her existence would be pointless. All the work she did to get in good with the enemy, everything she had to sacrifice to begin her infiltration would be pointless. Pointless.

Hermione slowly rose until she was sitting on her heels. Crouching, she started to quietly make her way to a small alley going the opposite way from the street, but then stopped. Closing her eyes and grimacing, she knew that she wouldn't be able to leave him there.

Hermione took a deep breath. _I must be mental,_ she thought to herself as she steadily stood up. "Expelliarmus" she shouted, flicking Cormic's wand out of his hands and into hers.

"Maverlia… What are you..?" She saw the surprise on Cormic's face.

"Confundo! Incarcerous!" Crabbe dropped his hold on Malfoy, looking around in confusion as Dolohov growled in anger, ropes constricting his movement.

"Run Malfoy!" She yelled, roughly grabbing his arm and pulling him down the street. He complied running after her, but not before punching Dolohov in the face. It wasn't until they were just out of Hogsmeade when she heard feet behind them. Hermione turned around.

"Maverlia, you fucking traitor." Cormic's voice growled, walking slowly closer, his fingers wrapped tightly around a wand he has taken from one of the Death-eaters.

"No Cormic, my name is Hermione. Expulso!" The explosion pushed the short thick man backwards, but not before he had screamed his own spell.

"Crucio!" Hermione had barely heard the echo of the word as she grabbed onto Draco and disapparted.

Hermione fell on hard ground, and Draco landed onto her causing her to lose her breath. She used all her strength to push the heavy body off of herself, before realizing that there was blood gushing from his arm. Hermione stood, pushing her long dark hair out of her face. Draco had been splinched, his arm torn open. Bending down, she pulled him up as best as she could "Draco, I am going to heal you, but I need your help."

He moaned with pain, and grasped onto him arm, but also stood up leaning his weight against Hermione. She pulled him into the closest house and shut the door behind them.

"Colloportus" she whispered. She heard the doors of the house lock. Pulling him into the center of the abandoned house she pointed at a table with Draco's wand. "Erecto" The wooden table flipped from its side to its upright position. Hermione then pushed Draco onto the table and went to the side to inspect the wound. His arm and shoulder had been nearly ripped off, but dittany would easily, though painfully, fix it.

Hermione rummaged through the pockets of her belt until she found what she was looking for. Drawing a small container out of her pocket, she opened it and rubbed the essence onto Malfoy's skin. This was met with a series of groans and grimaces.

"Oh, stop being such a baby," she whispered gently as she watched the skin begin to repair itself. Within minutes the wound was nicely healed, and Draco was passed out on the table. Hermione curiously looked him over.

No longer was he that thin, snake-y boy that she remembered. Although his pale hair was the same it was longer just barely over his eyes, and unkempt. He had grown taller, and was slightly more muscular. He looked wild almost. She touched his muggle clothes curiously. He wore a pair of jeans, and hoody over which he had a coat. His backpack, which was flung under the table, was packed full. She toed it, looking unsure at it.

Curious.

Part 2: Tea

Draco felt himself sway in and out of sleep. He picked up little snippets of activity going on around him. He heard a feminine voice "Salvio Hexia", he felt a sudden warmth as if a fire had been started, and then finally the smell of tea wafted towards him, waking him. Draco pushed himself up, but stopped when his arm tinged with pain.

"Yeah, you won't want to put any pressure on that" speculated a voice from somewhere in the room.

Tenderly scooting to the edge of the table where he lay, Draco leveraged himself into a standing position. He felt dizzy for a mere second, and then forced himself to concentrate. Where am I? What happened? Oh yes. Hogsmeade, Granger, Death eaters.

The same voice interrupted his thoughts "There is tea on the stove if you want it." Draco swirled around, facing the witch.

"And why would I want anything from you?" He spat.

Granger was sitting down in a chair in the corner. The window just behind her cast enough light to see the halo of dark hair that hung from her head. She shrugged, and turned away back to whatever she was doing. She was reading a book. For a reason Draco couldn't place, the sight of Hermione Granger reading a book somewhat comforted him. He didn't like the feeling.

He felt around his pockets, looking for his wand, "Where is my fuckin wand?" He snarled

With a slim finger she pointed to a dresser, not even bothering to look up from her book. Draco stomped his way past the table to the other side of the room. He picked up his wand to inspect it and then wiped it against his pants, having remembered that she had used it. A mudblood. Baring a glance over at her, she seemed unperturbed by him being there. This irritated him beyond belief.

"You're still the filthy mudblood you've always been. Hiding in books." Draco snorted as he made his way back in front of her. Her response was less than satisfactory, merely shrugging and barely casting him a scowl. In actuality, she had changed quite a bit. The feeling of finding her mysterious, even seductive or attractive was infuriating.

"Well let's see what you are reading." Bending over he snatched the book out of her hands. "The Tales of Beedle The Bard? You're reading fairy tales? You have lost it!"

"Malfoy, give me back my book." Her face contorted with anger was even more… no, Draco couldn't let himself think of it. She stood and took a few steps towards him "Draco so help me, if you don't give me my book back…"

"What are you going to do?" He taunted. Before he could react, she had already barreled her body into his and swept her booted feet under his legs toppling him over. As a reaction Draco grabbed her leg and pulled her down to the ground also. She glared at him with her, now, hard eyes and stood back up with her book in her arms.

She hissed. "You're such a prat Malfoy, you always have been. "

"Then why did you help me? You know I will never give a shit about you." Draco retorted, his arm now aching from the fall.

"Tit for tat, don't expect anything else from me."

"I wasn't going to filthy mudblood!" He screamed back.

Granger gave him a small pitiful smile, and then turned her back to him. She walked to the door, flung it open and stomped out. She gave on last look in before she slammed the door shut, book in hands.

Suddenly Draco felt alone. The feeling of despair washed over him. To have someone to talk to after all those years, and then be left alone again, felt terrible. Even if it was just a worthless, lowly muggle-born. But then again she wasn't so worthless was she? Draco pushed those thoughts out his head and looked around.

He was in a small cottage of some sort; obviously it had been a muggle one. Turning around he walked towards the small kitchen. He looked down at the small stove, and his stomach growled. There on the stove was not only tea, but also muffins. What the hell, he thought, I have eaten worse.


	3. Chapter 3, Part 1

**Chapter 3: Alone**

**Part 1: Fairy tales**

Hermione didn't expect him to be there when she got back. Yet there he was, slouched in the chair, fast asleep. Every day he was there, a quiet shadow. Sometimes when she sat reading her book she felt his eyes upon her. She didn't really mind, at least it was quiet. Quiet enough for her to think.

And think she did. Since she had taken on the mission that the Order had given, she had pushed out thoughts about Harry and Ron. Now it was different. She didn't have any way of helping with the war, she had no place. The lonely ache inside her hurt. She had no family, her friends she hadn't seen in years, and any one that she had wanted to associate with she couldn't for fear of her mission being discovered. The only person she had spoken to was Lupin, and that was only brief words letting her know where she was needed.

Hermione knew that Harry and Ron were going to find horcruxes. She had planned to go with them to help, but they had left her. No doubt they believed it was too dangerous for her. If only they could see her now. How had they expected to survive without her?! There she was going again, thinking like they were dead. But, if not dead why hadn't they contacted her? Or anyone for that matter? No word in 3… Damn… Years.

So, there she was for nearly a week. Thinking about the past, worry about the future, and planning her next step. Hermione knew that she was going to look for horcruxes and in the process look for her friends. But where to start? Dumbledore hadn't given any clues on what the rest of the horcruxes were. That brought another mystery. Why had Dumbledore given her this book? It was, as Draco had said, merely fairy-tales. Of course it wasn't like the former Headmaster to give simple gifts. He always seemed to have some agenda. As a result of these thoughts, she read and re-read the book multiple times trying to find some clue.

The days passed slowly and Hermione began to feel angry. She couldn't figure out where to start. Finally one day she found herself staring blankly at her book, which lay on her legs. She felt hot, hot and aggravated. Snapping her book shut, Hermione looked up glaring at the first thing she saw.

"Malfoy, why the bloody hell are you still here?" she roared, standing up. Earlier she had felt his eyes on her again, and she knew he had been lurking in the shadows of the kitchen. Today it irritated her more than most.

There was a snap of surprise in his grey eyes, and then annoyance. "Well, I really don't have anywhere else to go, do I? I suppose it is none of your business anyway." He replied, leaning against the wall.

The sun had just begun to set, throwing them both into shadow. Hermione took a step forward. "You should leave Malfoy, wouldn't want to catch a disease from sharing food with a 'mudblood'."

"I don't need to take orders you. You know I am surprised that you aren't with your two pets. Where are your beloved Potter and Weasley anyway? Dead, probably." He spat back.

Hermione grimaced. "I'm sure that your father would take you back, if you begged him. Might want to take off those muggle clothes first, though. Of course you never know he might just kill you to get in favour with Voldemort again. It is a family tradition to betray each other isn't it?" The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. She watched as he seemed to crumble, and then his hurt turned to hate.

Draco stepped forward until the only thing that was between them was the table. "Don't you ever speak about my father or my family again with your dirty muggle tongue or you will regret it."

But, Hermione couldn't stop herself. If living as a potions runner had taught her one thing, it was to take no shit. So, almost as an instinct she said exactly what she knew she shouldn't. "Your father is worthless, just like you." She whispered each word, enjoying the feeling of them on her tongue.

"What did you just say?" He growled, throwing the table that lay between them out of the way and grabbing her shoulders. "I said don't talk about my father." Hermione squirmed to get out of his clutches, but he held tight. His hands tightened their grasp as he continued to stare down at her, his eyes darkened with anger.

"Malfoy, if you don't let go…" She felt his lips on hers. Rough and angry. Passionate and full of hate. For a moment she was lost in a fantasy that she had long ago given up. For a moment she was a simple and normal young woman. Then reality hit. Hermione pushed him away, and with all her might slapped him across the face.

"If you ever touch me again like that Draco, I will kill you." Gathering her cloak, Cormic's stolen wand, and her book she gave him one last hateful look, and then disapparated.

She didn't care where she went. Anywhere was better than there.


	4. Chapter 3, Part 2

Part 2: Loathed

Draco collapsed on the floor, his head in his hands. He felt sickened. What had he done? Why?

"FUCK!"

He was disgusted. How could he have done that? Roaring he stood, flipping the table and throwing anything in sight. Finally with his hands bleeding and hot tears against his cheek he sat once again on the floor surrounded now with shattered glass. Draco angrily brushed the tears off of his cheek. He was acting like a child and he knew it. With his anger gone all he had left was his thoughts.

Granger was a mudblood, having anything to do with her was against everything he believed in.

Draco blamed what he had done on finally being in the presence of another person, of finally feeling an emotion other than loneliness even if it was rage. He did have to admit that she had changed. She was no longer hurt by simple things. She seemed like a different person. He knew he had been staring at her for the past week, trying to figure her out. Even though Draco didn't want to admit it to himself, if she was a pureblood he would have been attracted to her.

Groaning to himself and pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he stood and walked to the arm chair that she had been sitting in when she finally snapped. Draco sat and let himself drift in and out of nightmare-ish thoughts.

_ There he was again. Wand pointed at Dumbledore, he heard the words of the others egging him on. He felt the burn of his dark mark. Only one simple spell and his life would be made, but Dumbledore the Headmaster looked into his eyes. The old man's eyes pleading, telling him that he didn't have to. Those eyes transformed into another's eyes. Sad, dark, sleepless. The long dark lashes fluttering up and down as she looked at him and then his wand. His wand, still in his clutched fist extended out from his body. She was dirty, bloody, and broken looking. Her sleeve pushed up showed a bleeding wound. 'Mudblood' the red-brown liquid still slowly seeping out. _

_"Kill her…" He heard the hiss of a voice from behind him. _

Draco woke up in a sweat. Pulling the hood off of his head, he looked around in an attempt to gain his bearings. The cottage.

It wasn't uncommon for him to have this nightmare. It was one that had plagued him since the moment it had happened, but the appearance of Granger was new. Why? Why was he now dreaming of her, worrying about her well-being. Draco stood and began to pace to and fro around the small house.

He obviously wasn't going to stop thinking about her any time soon, even though he considered her dirty. It was something he had to do. Since that Potter-twat and his weasel had disappeared everything had gone to hell. If Hermione was doing what he thought she was doing, then she would be looking for those two, but more importantly she would be looking for a way to defeat Voldemort.

With Voldemort defeated, Draco could possibly return home and take back his life. He sighed, finding himself staring out the window. Granger would need help; she couldn't possibly do whatever it was she intended to do alone. Having decided on this, Draco sat back down in the chair his head in his hands.

Now he had to think of where she could have gone. She seemed to have been focusing all of her time on that book. Draco imagined her once again, head bent over the book and fingers tapping impatiently against the armrest. What was it again? Fairy-tales.

He sat stumped chewing his lip. Finally a thought sparked.

_Deathly Hollows. _

_Peverell. _

_Godric's Hollow._

Slinging his bag on his back, tucking his wand in his pocket, Draco got ready to disparate. Be more careful this time, he told himself.


End file.
